


Held

by OhNoHello



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Aftercare, Dom!Hermes, Dom/sub, M/M, Over the Clothes, Porn with Feelings, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Sub!Charon, Subspace, they are in love your honor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29491611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoHello/pseuds/OhNoHello
Summary: Charon is tied up and serviced.
Relationships: Charon/Hermes (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 100





	Held

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up at 3 am and got emotional about ropes. 
> 
> For your reference, I was pretty vague on appearance so if you want a human Charon or canon Charon its up to you.

Red rope tied taut across pale skin in strategically placed diamonds and knots, tight enough to leave indentations without any lasting damage. A containment to be held in place, to be propped in position, to be unmoving. A well designed hug. 

It held Charon and he did not struggle against it. 

He took a long calm breath in and out quivered on the exhale. Another in. Another out.  _ Iii _ on the inhale,  _ ah  _ on the ex. The motion of waves, air coiling in his lungs like water foaming on the sand. His ribcage expanded, pushing against the feet upon feet of rope that had been looped around his body. Held not just physically, but fixed to that point in his mind.

Charon's entire body was bound. He was on his knees, sat back on his heels, legs spread wide. The ropes around his thighs were also tied around his calves were also strung to his hands, ensuring he was clamped firmly in position. His arms were folded behind his back, winding rope that snaked over his biceps and forearms and finally strung his wrists together. A series of intricate diamond shapes pearled down the front of his chest, up around his neck, and cascaded in a thick twine down the center of his back. He was upright, chest out, open and vulnerable. 

Each breath was an exercise in restraint. Too deep and his body would swell against his bindings. Too quick and shallow and he wouldn't get in enough air. The pose, the rope, forced a sedentary ease over him, a meditative repetition. 

It fuzzed his mind over, the sensation akin to a soft woolen blanket wrapping around his thoughts. Muted and calmed, his focus not on anything else save for the rope. 

A bare foot stepped into his view. Then a second. Pausing just out of reach, even if Charon had use of his hands. Charon twitched, tilting his head to look up. 

Hermes was not particularly tall, but to Charon he would always be a giant. Above him. Greater. The curl at the corners of his lips was sly and mischievous, filled with plans and promises of things he would do to Charon, more so than the intricate twine that held him. 

Hermes delicately tipped his fingers under Charon’s chin and tilted his head a little higher. Long strands of hair that Charon hid behind fell from his face, revealing himself to Hermes. 

“You doing okay there, boss?” 

The words came out slurred, as if Charon were hearing them underwater. The meaning of them was proving hard to decipher, his encapsulated mind rejecting translation. He was aware of the question on the periphery, secondary to the hand that rested atop his head. 

Hermes stroked down the side of his face, tracing the shape of jutted cheekbones, cupping his face with the hands of a worker. Not the smooth silken skin that Charon was prone to worship, but calloused from the multitude of responsibilities that he carried under his wing. The nonstop energy of needing to do more, be more. Charon being one of them. 

Charon sight cut off in painful ecstasy, leaning into the warming embrace of just a hand on his face. Head hung heavy and the fingers, the palm, the splay across his cheek held him up. The pang in his chest knotted over one another like the nodes that dotted down his chest, twisting in a way that clogged up his throat and the back of his eyes. Dropped deep into the palm against his face, dragging against it, nuzzling into the skin. The simple touch breaking his heart. His mouth opened, falling into heavy rest, and he sighed once again, forgetting the rhythm of breathing. 

Hermes crouched between his legs, still holding his head upright. 

“Charon?” 

At the proximity, the question was legible. Concern laced the uttered name, a command underneath it, demanding that Charon stay in the present. A question that Charon was required to answer. 

He nodded into the palm. 

Try as he might to hide it, Hermes’ sigh was palpable, content at the answer. The warm hand continued to slide down Charon’s skin, leaving his cheek cold and his head flopping without his rest to hold him upright. It traced down his neck, fingers digging into defined cords of muscle that ran down the column of his neck. Down over the sharp curve of his collar bone, pressing down into the hollow with a serpentine swish, cutting off his air with just the right amount of pressure. 

Ever more down exploratory fingers traced down the musculature of his chest, exploring divots and ridges, places where his skin suckled to specific desirable shapes. 

Awareness creaked over Charon as he looked up at the owner of that gentle touch. Dark eyes explored with fingers, smile possessive as Hermes catalogued everything he already knew. Fingertips bounced over the aesthetically pleasing knots he had so carefully constructed. Over the expanse of a flat stomach, dipping into sensitive places that made Charon’s skin twitch and dance. He shook within his bounds, tickled and teased and earning Hermes’ full attention. 

Eyes that sank into forever, the void between stars, hints of brown like the shadows that lurked between forests. Eyes that Charon hyper focused on and lost in their hypnosis. 

He had been granted the gift of dignity and still wore pants. Cinched low on his hips to show off explicate shapes of his anatomy. Cuffed at the ankles in complete comfort. Erotic despite the cover. 

Despite the disconnect with his own body, or probably because of it, Charon’s physicality had reacted in arousal. Pressed against the plush, confined in the constraints of his pants, taut from the pull of the ropes around his thighs. Evident for anyone who cared to see. Only Hermes in that space, but Charon would not have noticed any others. 

Hermes kneeled between Charon’s spread legs, rubbing his hands up the soft material of his pants and the ridges of the red rope. Up and up his hands went, thumbs pressing into inner thighs and pulling on the fabric even more. Charon’s breathing had halted altogether, clogged in a backlog of what was important. Only able to process one thing at a time. 

“Breathe,” Hermes cooed, like a whisper on the wind. 

Touch gentle enough to conjure tears cupped over the tent in Charon’s pants. 

Charon did as he was commanded and wheezed, sobbing as he listed forward to lean on the support in front of him. An involuntary convulsion as his body bowed, caught by the strength in a shoulder, the warmth in a crook of a strong neck. 

Laughter rumbled, bouncing his head rest and echoing throughout Charon’s body. The hand on his cock undulated, fingers moving in waves, stroking the defined length that pressed against thin pants. Pressing and pushing and delicious in the constraint and control. Over sensitive skin stimulated at the grip and the soft inner lining. 

Charon’s shoulders shudder and quivered, vibrating like leaves in the wind. He tilted his head, hiding and wishing to crawl inside Hermes. The effervescent state he had been luxuriating in was suddenly anchored back to his corporeal form, coalescing to the erect member under so much careful attention. 

Words whispered into his ear, lips pressed against his hair, but Charon could only sense their presence. Long since removed from any comprehension. Words of praise, words of worship, words of love. Dribbling down on him, ambrosia poured like molten gold over his head and dampening him to his bones, to his core. 

The hand on his cock twisted and turned, cupping his shape, wrapping around it. It exploited his weakest spots, quiet corners where he hid himself. Moments that had been dredged out of him when he was restrained from doing anything to keep them inside. His shoulders hunched, shaking in an attempt to shed the overwhelming crawl that sprinkled across his skin like pins and needles. Face hidden into the softest parts of Hermes. 

“You’re doing so well,” Charon could decipher. 

He whimpered. His fingers tightened into fists. His toes curled. 

Hermes pushed in closer, his knees edging Charon’s already strained legs ever wider. He wrapped an arm around Charon’s back, hand splayed out between arched shoulder blades. The small compact body, strong in ways that had always fascinated Charon, pressed up against him. Wrapped not just in rope but the man who had placed them. The hand on Charon’s cock pushed him flush against his abdomen, rubbing up once, long and slow. 

Charon’s body convulsed, jumping off the ground, his dick expelling cum and dancing under its confines. He thrashed like a leashed animal, caught in a fisher’s net. Not out of panic but the falling cascading euphoria. The high that built in the back of his mind and blinded him. No longer aware of the body, of the ropes, of the man in front of him. Mind blank and empty, rolling in the muck and desire of release. Mouth open and wide as if in a scream, but nothing came out. 

Once he was done, Charon still strained tense. Skin twitching and quivering with the sensations he drowned in. Sticky and defiled, dirtied with his own seed. Confined in his place that he was unallowed to deviate from. 

Hands wrapped around his shoulders, cupping the back of his head and draping over his back. 

“Breathe, Charon,” the whisper in his ear said. “Breathe for me.” 

There was never an instance where Charon would disobey. He exhaled with the  _ ah,  _ going boneless against the strength between his legs. A pillar for which to lean upon less he fall over. Trussed up and tied, glad to not be on his side. 

Awareness was slow to return to Charon. The fingers that threaded through his hair and the soft humming of a song he both knew and was foreign to him, drew him back to reality. His vision returned, blurred all the same, but remembering how to use his eyes. 

“Welcome back boss,” Hermes said. 

Hermes. Leaned against him, bound by him, kept by him. Charon nuzzled in closer, finding the pattern to normal breath return. The dig of ropes settled as his tension ebbed away. His fingernails pulling out of the skin of his palm and his legs unclenching. He sighed against the skin of Hermes’ neck, making the man laugh in that far off dreamy way. A surrealness that came with the after moments where Charon once again floated freeform within his confines. 

“Did you want me to untie you now?” Hermes asked. 

Charon, buried into the softness of Hermes’ chest, shook his head. 

“Just a few more minutes then?” 

Charon nodded. 

Hermes laughed against and wrapped his arms around bound shoulders. He squeezed tight, another layer of hard ties that kept Charon comfortably in place. Bound and safe. 

“A few more minutes then.” 

Charon rest against Hermes and was held. 

**Author's Note:**

> the ii-ah thing is a reference to [the song by Devin Townsend](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bF3yRpSVIs&ab_channel=DevinTownsend-Topic) which is one of my favorite songs. 
> 
> I will pay money to get a pic of subspace shibari Charon I'm just so heart clench right now
> 
> Twitter: [OhNo_Hello](https://twitter.com/OhNo_Hello)  
> Tumblr: [ScrumpyLikesThings](https://scrumpylikesthings.tumblr.com/)


End file.
